


False Information

by SpaceKeet



Category: Gloryhammer (Band)
Genre: Declan Rasmussen, Gen, Orginal Characters, Riker "Snow" Winters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22138612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceKeet/pseuds/SpaceKeet
Summary: They had anticipated the attack for themselves, they did not think Declan Rasmussen, their enemy would attack the Kingdom of Fife. One of their own, Riker “Snow” Winters had been on the commandeered Submarine and decided to adjust his part of the plan - with no help from the rest of his friends.
Kudos: 2





	False Information

_ “We were fed false information, I can’t let him destroy Fife and kill so many innocents. I have to adjust the plan and stop the ship before it crashes into the citadel, you guys won't be able to make it in time. I’ll try to get out alive, but if I don’t, see you guys on the other side. Dawei, I love you.” _

***

The cloaked figure rushed through the dark metal corridors of the space Submarine as he made his way to engineering to force the ship out of warp. It was supposed to go to the Keep, at least, that was the information they got and he found out that it was false. This ship is going to warp into the Citadel of Dundee located in Fife with millions of civilians; they would be wiped out. He had no connection with Fife, but he would not sit back and be teleported out as millions die when he could have prevented it or at least try. If it had been going to the Keep, it would have been easier to force it to crash, no one lived there except for himself and his group, but they had also been ready for it.

He had made a few more turns which left some people in the hallways confused, yet he did not care as he had been perfectly concealed. He needed to be hidden until he had gotten to the warp room, he had to drop the ship out of warp now, he refused to let people die because Declan had chosen to attack a place he had no prior plans to attack before. He had gotten to the door he needed and it had slid open to allow him entrance.

One of the workers had approached him with concern, “Excuse me si-!” They were silenced with a single knife to the throat and the others that had also come up to stop him had also been dealt with in the same way.

The mysterious cloaked figure had gone straight to the big reactor in the middle of the room, had reached out and pulled the emergency lever to drop them out of warp. He had snatched his hand back suddenly as a laser blast hit the consol where his hand would have been; he dodged another shot, but it had grazed his upper arm and brought out a hiss in pain. The figure then took off his cloak and had thrown it at the shooter to distract them as he drew out metal claws and had killed them. After the shooter had gone down, the figure that was previously cloaked had resumed his original task and had pulled the lever which caused the ship to lurch as it dropped from the warp.

The figure that everyone on board now knew as Riker Winters of the Warriors sprinted through the corridors as he made his way to the bridge, to change the direction of the ship away from Fife. Anyone that had stood in his way was taken out by metal claws. Riker then barged into the chaotic bridge, voices clamoured in a cacophony as they tried to work out why they had dropped out of warp prematurely as the Citadel of Dundee got closer. Everyone on the bridge had been too occupied to notice Riker had retired their helmsman and steered the ship up and away from Dundee.

Riker had to duck a spell thrown from Declan who was in the head chair near the doors of the bridge, he had then vaulted over the driver panels to take cover as Declan fired more spells to get rid of the white-haired Warrior.

“Get out of here, I’ll join you as soon as I rid ourselves of this white rat and finish the plan!” Declan ordered his underlings. He then dived for the panels to change them but had been stopped by Riker tackling him.

Declan and Riker fought each other as the ship groaned and tipped underneath them, as mages teleported away with prepared teleports, as the computer said something about the bridge doors being locked down. One fought to get to the panels to change the ship’s direction again while the other fought to buy time for Fife and himself. They paid no mind to anything else as they traded blows with each other. The ship groaned beneath and around them as it struggled to fight the planet’s gravity, cleary strained from its sudden entrance into said gravity as it lumbered across the sky. One of the other consoles in the bridge had burst into flames near the pair, and Riker took the chance and tackled Declan into it back first.

Declan screamed out in pain as he was slammed into the console and the flames began to burn past his clothes as his nemesis kept him against the burning console. “Get off me, Winters!” he screamed as he tried to push Riker off.

Riker kept his grip on Declan, his arm had been in the path of the flames and he bit back the pain from it. “No, I will not, we will both stay on this ship until it goes down or one of us falls,” he threatened his estranged cousin.

A voice sounded through the computer’s communication that was familiar to Riker but not to Declan. “ -static- Sno- Snow- static- they -bzzzt- won- can’t get you - bbZzZTT- too much -zzZZZZttt- interference -static-.” The voice then stopped as it if it had been cut off.

A sizeable explosion rocked the ship suddenly just after the voice had finished and thrown the pair away from the console on fire, across the polished floor littered with rubble. They both stood up with effort just as more explosions rumbled through and tossed them around some more.

“Fuck you, Riker!” Declan screamed and launched himself at Riker and slammed him into the front consoles hard.

The pair fought themselves as much as they did their balance on the failing ship when they both noticed that the mountainside had gotten closer and much quicker than it had been. Both abandoned their fight and immediately scrambled for any sort of cover on the wrecked bridge except for Declan, who tried to cast his prepared teleport to save himself and leave Riker on the ship.

The white-haired warrior had tackled his estranged cousin just as the bow of the ship made hard contact with the mountainside and collapsed in on itself onto the pair in it. After its descent was stopped, it had begun to roll down the mountainside, falling apart before it rested at the foot of the mountain.

A small flock of Crail’s giant eagles landed near the wreckage.

***

Grand Master Proletius, lead commander of the Space Knights of Crail had been enjoying that day, it was rather nice. The sun had been shining bright overhead and he was no longer swamped with paperwork from his help with the newly crowned king: Angus McFife the thirteenth. Yep, everything had gone smoothly and now he simply enjoyed the nice day in the courtyard of the large Citadel.

The Mysterious Hermit of Cowdenbeath, Ralathor had also chilled with him to simply enjoy the day since he too had nothing on that day.

“Odd to have a nice day, isn’t it?” Proletius said to his mysterious friend as they sat around on the benches.

The hooded hermit simply gave a small nod. “It is a nice change,” he agreed, he had spoken quietly, but the Grand Master could still hear him.

They spoke too soon, for far above the Citadel of Dundee a submarine had appeared right out of warp. Proletius and Ralathor already left the courtyard when the sub had appeared, they had sprinted through the halls just when the shock of the submarine came with a loud CRASH and shattered some windows. The Citadel had been thrown into chaos at this sudden attack.

Proletius had issued orders to the Space Knights to check on the eagles, evacuate the civilians to another location as well as themselves. Ralathor remained by the Grand Master’s side as they rushed through the Citadel as the older knight issued the orders in an attempt to get a handle on the chaos that they were thrown in.

“It was prematurely dropped out of warp,” Ralathor had said next to Proletius as they made their way to the Giant Eagles aviary.

Proletius looked at his friend. “What?” he asked, not because he did not hear him but because he did not consider that the ship had been dropped out of warp.

“Someone sabotaged the ship to drop out of warp prematurely. Whoever aimed to attack us, I know the tactic they aimed for and someone had stopped them,” he expanded.

The shadow of the submarine had passed over the city after it seemed to get forced up and to the right. Whoever had commandeered the ship from the attackers prevented it from crashing as well by steering it away from the city. It had rumbled harmlessly overhead and over the fields at a rather brisk pace but began to slow down as it fought the gravity.

Proletius and Ralathor both quickened their pace. “Ralathor, what’s the chance our mysterious saviour lives?” Proletius asked as they weaved through the streets crowded with panicked citizens as King Angus and the Hootsman organised the evacuation.

“Depending on if they’re engaging with our equally mysterious attackers, about half -” A loud pop sounded above them as one of the thrusters couldn’t keep up with the strain of the atmosphere. “-but dropping significantly,” he finished calmly.

They managed to get to the aviary with the giant eagles who were stunned from the shock and after they had helped them recover, the Space Knights of Crail and the Grand Master hopped on their large feathery companions and left in pursuit of the large Submarine. Ralathor had buddied up with Proletius on Farcry.

The Space Knights began to gain on the rather slow-moving ship as it strained against the gravity of the planet. Proletius then turned to Ralathor, “Can you try to slow the submarine down?” he asked with a raised voice over the wind.

The hermit nodded and began to cast a spell then stopped. “Oh dear…” he muttered and stopped his cast.

“What-,” A massive series of explosions rippled across the ship’s hull and propelled the bow of the ship forward, towards the mountainside it had been slowly rumbling towards beforehand. The rest of the Space Knights stalled on their eagles as they watched the front of ship ram into the mountain and began to roll down it, pieces then began to fall off and onto the mountain.

Proletius and Farcry did not stall and still flew towards the bow that was now descending the mountain. “Chances now?” he asked the Hermit but he knew that they would be low if not non-existent.

“If they were pinned at the moment of contact against the mountain, low, but if they were not…” the hermit trailed off since he did not need to tell the Grand Master what would happen if he was not pinned.

Proletius knew; if their saviour had been pinned under rubble before the ship tumbled, they would have had some chance at survival, but if they were not pinned, then the Grand Master would be retrieving a corpse.

The ship stopped at the base of the mountain, now a crumpled shell as the Grand Master and medical eagles approached and landed. With Ralathor’s help, they managed to get into the bridge and searched for survivors or bodies.

***

They had found one survivor in the wreckage, he was in critical condition so they had to get him to Dundee’s infirmary as soon as possible to try and save him. They had no idea if he was the attacker or the saviour of Fife, but Ralathor managed to salvage the submarine’s security tapes and had looked at them in private. The Grand Master had been pacing outside the infirmary for news on the white-haired man they had found, for news from Ralathor, or news from Angus and Hootsman. The latter two had already started to bring the citizens they had evacuated back into the city.

The attack had come from thin air and the Space Knights had found no follow up attack, so went to help their King and the Hootsman bring the civilians back into the city.

King Angus and the Hootsman had been the first to return and found Proletius outside the infirmary. “Proletius, old friend, the citizens are back into their homes and the Space Knights and the Questlords had taken it upon themselves to start clearing out the wreckage of both halves of the fallen submarine. Any word on our mysterious man’s status or his involvement?” the Hootsman asked.

Proletius shook his head. “No, Ralathor is still looking at the tapes and our mystery man is still with the healers; are you sure that every citizen is back home safe?” he asked.

Angus nodded. “Yeah, though the mood is tense now and I’m not sure what to say. They’ll want answers, this was sudden,” he had said to his friends.

“Think of a speech after we get answers ourselves,” Proletius advised.

“Speaking of answers, I have some,” Ralathor said as he appeared near the group and spooked the Hootsman.

“Well?” Proletius prompted, eager to hear.

“Long watch through security footage short, our mysterious survivor is our saviour and his name is Riker Winters. Our attacker was Declan and either died in the bridge where we dug up Riker, or he had managed to cast his prepared teleport and got away. Hard to tell,” Ralathor answered a bit vaguely.

“Anything else?” the Grand Master asked. There was always more with the Hermit involved since he had been quite thorough.

“He's a part of a group that Declan referred to simply as the 'Warriors' and from what I could glean was that the Warriors got information that Declan was going to attack their base, they sent an inside man to drop the ship out of warp the same way we witnessed and that inside man found out that they were fed false information.”

“And he simply adjusted the previous plan with no help from his group but it was clear from his actions that he didn't simply want this to happen,” Angus theorised based on the evidence that had been given to him.

The Hootsman wondered something. “Why would Declan attack Fife? I have no idea who that is, name rings no bells.”

“I do not recognise the name either, neither of them in fact,” Proletius agreed.

“Declan wished to remove us from the possibility of being allies with the Warriors and those he called the Griffins. No doubt he recognised that if they were to befriend the kingdom that took down Zargothrax many times, he would have a hard time destroying the Warriors.”

Angus shrugged. “Well, let's go find them and ally with them,” he said since that made sense, the sudden yet failed attack had pushed their hand.

Proletius turned to the young king. “You will stay here and settle the nerves of the people, I will go on Farcry and look for the Warriors, I was one of the ones to pull their friend out of the smouldering wreckage,” he ordered.

The boy-king pouted. “I suppose that you and Farcry would be quicker, I did say that I need answers to tell the people, so okay. But if you're a week late, I am coming after you,” he threatened with a grin.

The older knight gave a small chuckle, “That’s fair. But I also don’t know how long it’d take to find them. Give me at least a week minimum and two weeks maximum.”

“Alright, a day more and I’m coming after you. With my hammer. Hoots, Ralathor, what are you two going to do?” Angus had asked his friends.

“I’m going to head back to the wreckage of the bridge and try to find any trace of Declan,” the Hootsman answered with a casual shrug.

“I will go back to the tapes and organise them into a video for our hopefully new friends, since they’d probably have an interest in seeing what happened,” the Hermit answered softly.

“What about Riker?” Angus asked.

“No point chilling, it’s already been three hours, the healers will be done if he’s stable or if he dies, but I’ll let them know to report to you about his status,” Proletius answered.

That settled the king’s nerves and he nodded. “Alright, I’m going to make a speech to settle everyone’s nerves, see you all later,” he said and walked off down the corridor. The others too parted ways, Hootsman to the wreckage of the bridge, Ralathor back to his hermit hole in Cowdenbeath and Proletius went to prepare for his trip after he had told the healers to inform the King of Riker’s status.

It had taken Proletius several hours to get himself and Farcry ready for their long trip, it was late at night when the Grand Master was ready. He gazed at the large eagle and had been making a mental checklist to make sure that he had everything.

“There’s more information that you should know that would make your search faster. Hopefully,” a small voice said behind him.

Proletius turned to face Ralathor, not phased at his sudden appearance. “And what information is that?”

“The Winters and Declan are familiar to me. Declan’s full name is Declan Rasmussen, a mage that I had been… Watching. The Winters are an ancient family that I thought was extinct, the Rasmussens being traitors of the Winters and sought to wipe them out and establish themselves as the true family. I know nothing of the Warriors, but one of the Winters are apart of them, so here’s a map of locations that the Rasmussens hit but were mysteriously pushed back,” Ralathor shoved a map into Proletius’s hands before he had continued, “ask around there for the Warriors, maybe someone around there knows their whereabouts, allude to who you are, pique their interest.” He finished and gazed at Proletius.

“Pique their interest enough to come searching for me since they know their guy was at Fife, got it. And I’ll be careful about alluding to whether or not we have Riker, don’t want the Rasmussens sneaking in and killing our saviour,” the Grand Master nodded. “Anything else?”

Ralathor held up his hand, palm up. “The assembled recordings. I figured that our hopefully new friends would appreciate a copy, so I made one.” A small drive sat in the Hermit’s hand.

Proletius took the drive and pocketed it along with the map. “Don’t want to come help?”

“I would only slow you and Farcry down,” the hermit answered.

Proletius knew that Ralathor was hiding something since in the rush of battle the lanky hermit did no such thing, and knew how to ride a giant eagle. The Grand Master had lifted a brow to let the Hermit know about his scepticism and turned back to Farcry and began to climb her. “While I think that’s false, I also know why you don’t wish to tell me: it’d take too long.”

“Exactly. Farewell, Proletius and if you’re a day late, the king won’t be the only one coming to search for you.” He had a small smile underneath his hood.

Proletius chuckled as Farcry shook herself a bit to settle the bags and prepared to take off. “Farewell, Ralathor, be back in a week or two,” he said as he adjusted himself and then Farcry took off with a leap.

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on a dream I had with the character in question (Snow) and I got annoyed that I woke up before I got to the good part.


End file.
